Let bards elate

Let bards elate
Of Sue and Kate
And Moggy take their fill o,
And pleas'd rehearse
In jingling verse
The lass of Richmond hill o:
A lass more bright
My am'rous flight,
Impell'd by love's fond workings,
Shall loudly sing,
Like any thing,
'Tis charming Peggy Perkins.

Some men compare
The favourite fair
To every thing in nature;
Her eyes divine
Are suns that shine,
And so on with each feature.
Leave, leave, ye fools,
These hackneyed rules,
And all such subtle quirkings,
Sun, moon, and stars
Are all a farce,
Compared to Peggy Perkins.

Each twanging dart
That through my heart
From Cupid's bow has morriced,
Were it a tree,
Why I should be
For all the world a forest;
Five hundred fops,
With shrugs and hops,
And leers, and smiles, and smirkings,
Most willing she
Would leave for me,
Oh what a Peggy Perkins.